Pack Life
by HuffalumpsAndWoozles
Summary: Sinead stood looking up at the house. She was a tiny, blonde figure, completely dwarfed by the huge black house above her. It looked like something out of a horror film, and as she stood there, Sinead thought herself: yep, she was definitely going to be murdered tonight. Adjusting her rucksack on her back, she walked towards the front door. (Language and violence, please review) x
1. Prologue

The thirteen year old Sinead stood looking up at the house. She was a tiny, blonde figure, completely dwarfed by the huge black house above her. It looked like something out of a horror film, and as she stood there, Sinead thought herself: yep, she was definitely going to be murdered tonight. Adjusting her rucksack on her back, she walked towards the front door. The house stood alone in the forest, and looked like it had been abandoned for years: the windows were all boarded up and most of the left side was caved in. It looked even creepier in the black night and the pouring rain. She hesitated. The door looked like one knock would take it off its hinges. Holding her breath, Sinead knocked.

No answer. Sinead's shoulders dropped and her head tilted.

"Hello!" she yelled. No answer. She headed down to the nearest boarded up window and wrenched of one of the boards. She wriggled through the gap and straightened up inside, brushing her wet hair from her face. The inside was equally as sinister.

The staircase was completely useless with only a few steps even remaining. The sofa looked like it was home to many rats. She didn't want to know was inside the blackened fridge. Moving across the room, the floor boards creaked and the ceiling groaned ominously. Looking up she saw several gaps in the roof and she had to dodge patched where the rain was falling through.

There didn't seem to be anybody here. Sighing, Sinead turned to leave. She had almost reached the window when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she was frozen on the spot. Someone was watching her. Sniffing the air, she smelt blood, dirt and sweat. Slowly she turned around.

A huge, dark figure stood in a back door she hadn't noticed before. Sinead tried to sound as grown-up as possible, but failed to hide her high, girly voice.

"Hello?" she called. The figure didn't move or speak. Sinead stood her ground and tried to sound brave. " _Hello?_ "

She jumped when there actually was a reply.

"Who are you?" The voice was low and rasping and sent chills through her tiny body.

"M-my name's Sinead. I was told to come here –"

Suddenly a massive hand pinned her up against the wall by her neck and her feet dangled hopelessly a foot above the floor. The man holding her there was huge. His face was monstrous and scarred. His eyes glowed in the dark and his teeth bared as he held her there.

"Who sent you here?" he demanded, "Who else knows about this place?"

"Please!" Sinead cried out. She could feel herself changing. Her teeth were lengthening and her nails grew sharp and black as she tried to prize his hand off her throat, "Please put me down!"

The man looked in surprise as Sinead's nails drew blood from his wrist and her eyes glowed yellow. He took his hand away and she fell to the floor gasping for air. He leant down his face inches from hers, smelling her and trying to figure her out.

Sinead gained control and her teeth and claws went back to normal.

"My mum sent me here," she said, trying to keep her ground as he stared animalistic at her, "She said I'd be looked after here."

"What?" now he really was confused, "Who's your mother?"

"Isabelle Matthews." Said Sinead, "She was a werewolf too, she died last full moon but, I think she must have known it was going to happen because the day before she told me about this place and how to find it."

The man stepped away, looking down at her with a strange expression. She waited for him to say anything but he didn't seem the most articulate.

"Did you know my Mum?" she asked, tentatively.

"A long time ago," he muttered, "How old are you?"

"Thirteen," said Sinead. She could see where this was going and it appeared he could to, because he backed away even further. Sinead got to her feet and slid her rucksack off onto the floor. There was a moment where they both stood and stared at each other. Then Sinead spoke.

"So… are you my Dad?"

The man nodded. "I think so."

They let that fact settle in the air for a moment.

"Look," the man regained his aggressive front, "I don't have time to look after some kid. I don't know why Isabelle sent you here."

"I don't need looking after!" she said, desperately, "Honestly I can look after myself! It's just…" she hesitated, "I don't have anywhere else to go."

He didn't say anything.

"I don't even know you're name." Sinead muttered.

A twisted smile crawled across his face.

"Fenrir Greyback." He said. Sinead wasn't surprised. This was something she'd kind of been guessing since she arrived. From everything she'd heard about Greyback, she couldn't understand why here Mum had sent her here. This guy was dangerous and she was thirteen years old. For a moment she considered running for it, but she didn't really have any other options.

"What was that, by the way?" Greyback asked.

Sinead faltered. "What was what?"

"That! When I grabbed you. With the eyes and the teeth."

"Oh that! That was…" she didn't know how to explain it, "I've always been able to do that," she shrugged, "You know, when I get upset or angry or when someone holds me against a wall by my throat…"

"Who bit you?"

"No one bit me," she said, simply, "I was born a werewolf."

Greyback stared at her. She could practically see the cogs ticking in his brain.

"You know," he said slowly, "Maybe I could use you."

Sinead took a step forward.

"Really?" she said, excitedly.

"Yeah," he said, with a vicious smile, "Obviously you'll be with the pack most of the time but," he put a hand on her shoulder, "I think you could have you're uses."


	2. A Quick Getaway

Sinead was running full pelt down a muddy road towards a small fishing town. Mud splattered up her legs and her blonde hair tangled behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she couldn't see the people chasing her so she took a sharp turn into an alleyway and crouched behind some bins. She looked across the alleyway to see dark skinned girl with brilliant brown eyes staring back at her, a smile on her face.

"Where the fuck is Robert?" Sinead demanded, "He was supposed to be waiting with the car."

"I dunno," said Alya, "I haven't seen him since we split up."

Sinead let out a growl of frustration. "This is so like him! I knew he couldn't be trusted!"

"He's trying his best," Alya always had the annoying habit of sticking up for people, "Come on we'd better go find the boys."

She stood up and went to the end of the alleyway. Sinead followed her and when the coast was clear they walked briskly out and down the street. They'd barely gone a few yards when Tom came round the corner.

"Have you seen Robert?" he asked.

"No," said Sinead, glad to see someone else was pissed off with Robert's behaviour, "He was supposed to be waiting at the top of the hill with the car but when I got there all I found was fucking Muggle policemen. I had to leg it down here to get away from them, they recognised me from the shop!"

Just then there was a blare of a horn, and a voice shouted "Well if it isn't the twat pack!"

The three of them spun round to see Patrick in the driver's seat of a battered old pick-up and Jones in the passenger seat. They ran and jumped into the back of the pick-up and Patrick drove off at a ridiculous speed, sending mud up at the three in the back. They tore back up the street.

They were heading towards the top of the hill. Sinead leant round and banged on Jones' window. He wound it down.

"Tell Patrick we can't go this way!" she shouted over the engine "There are Muggles at the top waiting for us!"

Patrick had obviously heard her because he took a sharp left nearly throwing Sinead from the vehicle. But it appeared they couldn't go this way either. The end of the road was blocked by two Police cars, and another pulled up behind them blocking their path.

Tom swore softly behind Sinead and Alya looked frantically at Sinead for some idea as to what to do next. Sinead jumped out of the vehicle as Patrick stopped the engine and he and Jones got out. Tom and Alya got out behind them and five of them stood in front of the car, facing the three cops ahead of them. Sinead turned to Patrick.

"Are we really going to do this?" she asked.

"They haven't left us a choice," he said, baring his teeth, "Besides, there's three of them, plus the one behind us. There are five of us and we're fucking werewolves. We can take them."

"Yeah, I suppose," Sinead sighed, "I don't think any of them even have guns."

She closed her eyes and when she opened them they glowed yellow. She bared her suddenly pointed teeth and flexed her clawed fingers. Alongside her Alya tensed and clenched her fists, and Tom and Jones flexed their muscles, ready to run. And on Patrick's signal, they did.

It was a blood bath. The five of them tore their way through the Muggles, ripping at their faces and throats and punching them hard. Once they were done, they vaulted over the cars and ran howling and laughing like idiots away from the village and into the nearby forest.

Sinead ran at the front of the group, jumping over rotting logs and tearing through brambles. When they were far enough away she fell flat on the floor and lay laughing up at the sky. The others fell down around her and the all went into hysterics. Their mouths and hands were covered in blood and although Sinead's teeth and claws were gone her eyes still glowed yellow.

Finally when they had composed themselves they got to their feet and started walking towards their camp. Alya was the first to speak.

"So what are we going to do about Robert?"

"Nothing," said Jones. He was a huge, muscular black guy with some serious cheek bones and Sinead reckoned he was about twenty three. His appearance was let down however when he spoke with a thick Black Country accent, "It's his own fault he got left behind he should have been there with the car."

"Yeah he was dead weight anyway," said Patrick.

Patrick was the leader of their little group. They were the only werewolves in Greyback's pack under twenty five so they stuck together and often broke off from the main pack. Patrick was tall and brawny with fair hair and perfectly kept stubble. As Greyback's daughter and therefore the second leader of the group (obviously a girl couldn't be first leader) Sinead was expected to one day hook up with him, but, despite his good looks, she didn't have the slightest inclination towards him. He was arrogant and violent, but the fact he'd been here six years (a few months longer than Sinead herself) he thought he was the dogs bollocks and reminded the others of this every day.

At his word the others accepted Robert's fate and they carried on in silence towards the camp.

He was right, Sinead thought, Robert was dead weight. He'd only been with the pack six months and no one had quite figured him out. He was a skinny guy with dark hair and an expression that gave the impression he was always looking over his shoulder for someone. He always can came back after a full moon the most beaten up and bloody but nobody quite knew why. He was low ranking in the pack but none of the others had particularly aggressive feelings towards him, and he wasn't one to pick fights.

By the time they reached their makeshift camp Sinead's thoughts were no longer on Robert, and she spent the rest of the evening laughing and talking with the others.


	3. Revelations in a Broom Cupboard

"Sinead!" A voice rang out through the forest.

The others all turned to look at Sinead, who sighed, got to her feet and headed off into the trees.

"See you later," she mumbled.

"Bye," Alya called, with an almost pitying look on her face. Patrick however shot a fierce look at Sinead's back as she left and vented his anger by punching Tom.

Sinead stomped through the brambles and undergrowth before coming to a stop. To an onlooker it might have seemed she was alone in the forest, the golden sun shining through the canopy on her long blond hair and pale skin. But a scent of blood, dirt and sweat meant Sinead wasn't at all surprised when a huge, brooding figure stepped into view ahead of her.

"Why can't you get Patrick?" she moaned, as Greyback walked towards her, "He really wants to come, he's jealous."

"Because Patrick's an idiot and _you_ need to show your face."

Sinead rolled her eyes as Greyback grabbed her arm and they disapparated.

It was sunny here too, and the huge manor house before them with its sweeping lawns and long gravel drive almost look picturesque. Almost. But there was no escaping from the feeling of dread that crept over Sinead, as the wrought iron gates parted and the two werewolves marched towards it.

The oak front doors swung open and the cool of the flagstone wall greeted them. Once in the room Greyback picked up pace and left Sinead behind.

"Stay here and look menacing." He said over his shoulder, as he disappeared through a door to the left. Sighing once more, Sinead leaned against the panelled wall, resting her head back against it.

She hated this place and she hated the Death Eaters. There was a time when it was her and her Dad against the world. The pack had freedom to hunt wherever they wanted and do what they wanted. The politics of the rest of the wizarding world didn't matter because the pack weren't human and didn't need to worry about such human things.

But the Voldemort had come back and they had been thrown into war. Greyback, and a few other members of the pack, had said they believed in the Dark Lord's ideals and so the whole pack was now expected to follow them. Of course, it was total bullshit. Greyback didn't care about "purity of blood". After all, he was just a "filthy half-breed", the lowest of the low. No, all he cared about was biting as many humans a possible and recruiting them to the pack. That was the way it had always been, and working with the Death Eaters just meant he had more humans to bite than ever.

So now, working with the Death Eaters, the werewolves were expected to behave a certain way. It was all about keeping up appearances, and that was why Sinead was now stood in the entrance hall to Malfoy Manor leaning against a wall, giving death stares to anyone who passed. As Greyback's effective right-hand man, she had to show her face more and more often at the manor. She wasn't the only one. Other high-ranking members of the pack came in her place occasionally. But to absent for too long would arouse suspicion about the pack's loyalty, and so she did as she was told.

It wouldn't have been so bad if this was all she had to do: stand there and look menacing. But that wasn't the whole description. Standing there in the hallway was like sitting in a waiting room for some unknown fate. Sometimes, she would stand here for hours, then her Dad would reappear and they would leave. But other times, he would appear and call her further into the house. These were the times she feared: The times when her unique skill set would be utilized, and she would be made to bite or even kill someone the Death Eaters needed dealing with. The times when she would have to speak directly to Death Eaters, and, on a handful of occasions, the Dark Lord himself.

An hour of standing there, and Sinead was starting to get bored. She was seriously having to resist the urge to start scratching things into the wood panel walls with her claws. He eyes flicked towards the staircase as she heard a door open at the top of it. A thin boy, a year younger than her and with white blonde hair walked down the stairs.

Sinead continued her blank stare at the opposite wall. She had no interest in winding up the Malfoy boy today. He was half way down the stairs when she suddenly noticed it.

She whipped he head round to look at him. He noticed her look picked up speed as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He tried to walk past her staring straight ahead at the door he was headed for but she grabbed his arm and he snapped round at her.

"Get of me, half-breed," he snarled, trying to pull away but she kept a firm grip.

"Really?" she said, raising an eye-brow, "You wanna go there?"

"What are you talking about?" he spat.

"Well, you're a half-breed too, mate."

Malfoy yanked arm free, and put a hand on Sinead's back pushing her threw a door to the left. She folded her arms as he checked for any on lookers before shutting the door behind them both. They were stood in a cupboard.

"Well this is intimate," she remarked, "People will talk."

"Who told you?" Malfoy demanded. He was a lot taller than her and was trying to use this to intimidate her, "Was it him? You're Father?"

"No one told me! It's obvious, I can smell it on you!"

"So what? You're going to try and torment me about it now? Because-"

"So you admit it."

"What?"

"You're a werewolf."

Malfoy faltered, and for a moment Sinead thought he might be about to burst into tears.

"Yes," he cried, "Yes, okay? I'm a fucking werewolf! Happy now?"

"No, not really." Said Sinead.

Malfoy gave her a look of disbelief and went to leave, bus she stopped him.

"Did he do this? My Dad?"

"Like you didn't know-"

"I didn't," Sinead said, sincerely, "I really didn't. And I'm sorry. I know I always wind you up but I didn't want this for you, I swear. You've got enough bullshit do deal with without this."

Malfoy just looked at her.

"What did you do?" Sinead asked, "Why did he bite you?"

"I'm not talking about this with you!" Malfoy said viciously, looking at her in disgust, "If you know what's good for you you'll keep your mouth shut. My family may have lost some credit but we're still above low-lifes like you."

And with that he left the cupboard and shut the door behind him. Sinead waited for his footsteps to fade before stepping out herself, and resuming her stance by the wall. She waited for another forty minutes before Greyback came back, and the two of them left.


	4. Many Hurried Conversations in the Woods

"So?" asked Alya, "Any gossip?"

"Oh my God," Sinead linked arms with Alya, "You have no idea."

The two of them walked out of earshot of the boys. Once far enough away Sinead launched into a torrent of explanation. She told Alya all about her conversation with Draco and Alya listened with her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide.

"And then he was all "I'm not talking about this with you, half-breed" and stormed off! I was like "Um okay, mate. See if you still think that after your first full moon.""

"You don't think he's transformed yet?" asked Alya.

"Na, he smelled too healthy."

Alya gave a hollow laugh. "Shit."

"I know"

"But I thought the Malfoys were like, pureblood royalty, right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."

"Yeah but I don't think they are anymore," Sinead smirked, "I reckon Lucius was responsible for the fuck up at the Ministry the other week."

"So this is You-Know-Who punishing him."

"Uh-huh," Sinead nodded, "The good old-fashioned turn-his-kid-into-a-werewolf strategy."

For a moment Sinead looked seriously pissed off and a muscle in her jaw twitched, but then she composed herself.

"Come on," she said, "We'd better get back or the boys'll wonder what we're doing."

"Let them wonder," Alya winked, and slapped Sinead's butt as she walked past. Sinead rolled her eyes and followed.

When they got back none of the boys initially asked what Sinead and Alya had been talking about. They knew better than that. For a few moment's Sinead and Alya were even allowed to sit down across the clearing from them, and talk about mundane things like the weather. But Patrick wasn't going to let Sinead get away with that. He stood up abruptly.

"Sinead."

That was all he said and then turned walking into trees.

Sinead sighed. God, he was such a drama queen. Was she not going to get one moment of peace today?

"So," Patrick said, once she had caught up with him, "Anything you'd like to share?"

"Not really, Patrick."

"So you and Alya were just talking about...?"

"Our vaginas."

"Really?" he folded, his arms.

"Yeah," Sinead shrugged, "Our periods just synced!"

She'd pushed it too far.

Suddenly, Patrick had her pinned up against a tree by her throat. She kicked him and fought but he was twice the size of her.

"You need to remember your place," he snarled, baring his teeth.

"My place?" Sinead choked, "Patrick my Dad literally owns you. You think I can't get you killed in a heartbeat?"

"So why don't you?" he taunted, "Is it because you're scared your Father doesn't really give a shit about you?"

"No," Sinead answered a little too quickly.

"Oh, I seem to have touched a nerve," said Patrick, leaning in closer. When they were almost nose to nose he whispered, "Your werewolf is showing."

 _Fuck_. That phrase was the pack's code for when she started to transform outside of the full moon. Sinead made on last ditch attempt to get free when a _crack_ split through the forest and both of them froze.

Then catching the scent, Patrick went back to his cocky self.

"Speak of the devil," he said, and let go of Sinead. She fell to the floor drawing breath and when she looked up he was gone. She got up and walked after him.

Everyone was on their feet when she got back, and was gathering their belongings (which for most was basically a coat and a knife.

Greyback was stood waiting. Sinead picked up her own coat and walked over to him.

"What's happening?"

"I need you all back with the rest of the pack," he said, "I've had a tip off, the Ministry know where we are so we need to move and quickly."

Sinead didn't need telling twice. She grabbed he Dad's arm and caught a glimpse of Tom and Alya pairing up with Jones and Patrick (the only two who could apparate) before she felt a jerk behind her navel and she closed her eyes.

When she opened them they were stood in yet another random bit of woodland, only here there were dozens of werewolves. The other split off and started moving amongst the crowd, greeting others that they hadn't seen in weeks. Sinead watched them, forgetting her Dad was even stood there until-

"Why are your eyes yellow?" he demanded.

She turned to look at him. She thought, and it was a very optimistic thought, that there was something in his grey eyes. Concern? Worry? He definitely had an odd look about him. She couldn't figure it out.

"It's nothing," she said, only thankful that her teeth, at least, where back to normal.

Seeming satisfied that his parenting duties for the day were over, he grasped her shoulder roughly (the closest thing to a sign of fatherly affection Sinead ever got) and then disappeared into the crowd.


	5. Full Moon

The next few days passed far too quickly, and all of a sudden the full moon was upon them. The pack were restless and fights broke out every ten minutes. Sinead, Patrick, Jones, Alya and Tom sat away from the others in a close group, fidgeting and casting frantic glances at the rest of the pack.

Sinead could feel the transformation getting closer. The headache that had been getting progressively worse all day was threatening to split her head open completely. Her muscles kept cramping and she was sweating buckets.

At about half past six, there was a crack through the air and Greyback walked into camp. Most of the pack avoided his gaze and kept to themselves. He glanced around at them briefly before heading over towards Sinead.

"You're coming with me." He said directly to Sinead.

Sinead felt the others all turn to look at her.

"What?" she said, "No, I'm staying here."

"You're coming with me, Sinead. We've got a job to do and I need a right-hand man."

Patrick stepped forward, "Sir, I would be more than happy to-"

"Fuck off, Patrick," Greyback snarled, without taking his eyes of Sinead, "Come on," he grabbed Sinead's arm, "We don't have time for this."

"Dad-"

Before Sinead could even argue, they had apparated, and were stood in an open field. About a mile away she could see a village, glowing in the orange sunset. Without a word Greyback started walking towards it and Sinead followed reluctantly. She wouldn't be able to get far enough away in the few minutes she had left, and even if she tried her Dad would stop her.

It wasn't uncommon for Greyback to take Sinead on "jobs" like this, but normally there was some sort of warning. A few days at least. He must have only been asked to do this by the Death Eaters this afternoon. She assumed it was the Death Eaters that had asked him anyway, but she was never told any details about who they were after or why. She just did as she was told to stay alive. Not that she thought her Dad would ever kill her but she couldn't say the same for some of his friends.

Greyback was terrifying at this time of month. He reeked of anticipation, hunger and ferociousness, barely able to keep himself remotely human even for another second till the moon came up. To be honest though she knew exactly why. As much as she hated it she felt exactly the same. That raw hunger burning inside her, making her reckless and volatile: before long she would be forced to give into it.

In fact, they were only half way towards the village when a wave of pain shot through her body and she screamed. She felt her knees hit the ground and her back arch. Her Dad seemed a million miles away now, his roars blocked out by her own screams. Her gums split as fangs broke through and her nails turned black and dragged across the earth. She felt her bones break and mend. Then her screams turned to broken animalistic shrieks and then silence.

The two wolves stood in the moonlight panting. One was large and muscular with a matted grey mane. It radiated strength and power, its hackles raised and ears back. The other was smaller and slim with a paler grey coat, and it looked fast. Its ears were pricked, its eyes darting and nose sniffing the air. The two met gazes for a second, and then the larger started forward towards the house with surprising speed for its size. The smaller one set of after it even quicker and the two sped towards the lights of the village.

Sinead arrived back at camp at about eleven the next morning. She trudged over two where Tom was sitting and flopped down next to him, lying on her back eyes closed. She wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep there.

To keep herself awake Sinead tried to remember the events of last night.

It was mostly just snippets but for years now she'd been training herself to remember more. When she was younger, Sinead would never remember anything, but as she got older she could remember more and more.

From last night she remembered transforming; seeing her Dad stood next to her in the moonlight; running towards the village; a window; someone screaming; running; flashes of red light; the taste of blood; running; more houses; more blood; a child; more running.

And then Sinead remembered the worst bit of all: the transformation back.

All of a sudden, as the sun came up, she'd gone from tearing across a field, high on adrenaline and hunger, to crashing. A dull ache spreading through her body, making her fur stand on end. Within seconds she was unable to stand, and within minutes she was curled naked on the ground, passed out from exhaustion and covered in blood and dirt.

She vaguely recalled her Dad looming over her, silhouetted against the bright morning sky. She remembered him throwing her some clothes. She remember disapparating. She remembered crashing down next to Tom.

It would be a few hours before she managed to keep track of any reasonable thoughts or memories, so Sinead rolled over and was asleep within seconds.


End file.
